It's Not What You Think
by tsutsuji
Summary: What Carolyn does when she's alone in her room is nobody's business - it's far worse than her family could ever imagine, and far, far better!


_Title: It's Not What You Think_

by: tsutsuji  
fandom: Dark Shadows 2012

Genfic; no pairing!  
rating/warnings: teen; Mention of possible sexual exploration by a 15 year old, but no sexual content. SPOILER for a thing involving Carolyn that is not revealed until near the end of the movie.

Written for KinkBingo, kink: body alteration/injury. It did not come out as good as I wanted it to, but I needed to post something for Amnesty so this is it. Comments and suggestions for improvement are very welcome!

Also being used for 100_women, prompt from Table 2 is "Assumption"

* * *

Carolyn slams every door between the dining room and her tower bedroom as hard as she can, shutting out her _stupid_ family and that _stupid_ doctor and all of their stupid theories and ideas about _everything_. They're all wrong. They don't know _any_thing about her _at all_.

They have no idea.

She throws herself onto her bed and buries her face in the bed-cover, muffling a scream of rage. She can not _believe_ what David just said about her. Even worse than that, she can't believe he actually heard her. She knows you can't hear any noise from this tower room in the rest of the house, hardly. That's why she likes it here, so she can play her music as loud as she wants to (almost), any time she wants to, without her mother or Uncle Roger yelling at her to turn it down. And _that's _how she also knows David couldn't hear anything she was doing in here, unless he happened to be lurking around right outside her door.

How _dare_ he come creeping around outside her bedroom, listening to things he has no business listening to. Even her mother isn't that bad.

Carolyn can almost laugh, though, at what they _think_ he heard, and what they all must think of her now. Even that uptight, simpery new governess. Carolyn is pretty sure _she_ doesn't go around "touching herself," not even in private. She's obviously too perfect for that! Even if she did get yelled at by Mother for talking about ghosts like they were real.

That's the last thing Mother or Uncle Roger ever want to hear, of course. That's what makes it even crazier. It's not just that they think she's some kind of slut now; it's that they wouldn't even _want_ to know the real truth about her. They're too worried about the family's reputation, or what's left of it. Bad enough that they think she's fooling around with herself. It's not like any boys in town want anything to do with a Collins, so who else would she fool around with anyway? No, on second thought, they'd probably rather find out that she was secretly a hooker. At least that wouldn't be something _weird_.

But that's what makes it so funny. Carolyn's not absolutely certain - because despite what David says and what everyone else in the household probably thinks now, she really hasn't experimented all that much - but she's pretty sure turning into a wolf is even better than sex.

It was scary the first time, when the change came over her all of a sudden and she didn't know what was happening. At first, she thought it was just the worst menstrual cramps ever. The pain felt like it was going to rip her open, and the moonlight shining in her eyes was like a silver sword stabbing her in the brain.

But then she _changed_, and ever since then, well. Who cares if she's the biggest freak in the world now? When she's doing it, when the change takes over and when she's _in_ it, she doesn't care about any of that.

When she's got her wolf-form on, she can run like the wind. She can smell and hear and see things no human can; she's stronger than anyone and she can go _anywhere_. She's not just a wolf, she's a _werewolf_, with supernatural power that is way more cool than any cartoon superhero. _Super_-natural, even; a real Child of Nature, connected with everything and beyond it all, all at the same time.

Even if the grownups downstairs were right, if she really was just up here playing with herself all night, they'd still just freak out about _that_. Mother would probably make her talk to that stupid Doctor Hoffman about it, like a girl having sexual urges was some big problem. Obviously, the sexual revolution hasn't made it to Collinwood yet (Uncle Roger being a lech doesn't count).

Well, let them freak out all they want. Who needs sex when you've got fur and claws and power like this? Yeah, turning into a wolf is the ultimate trip and just the biggest turn-on _ever_.

She's so bummed and freaked out by that scene in the dining room that she suddenly realizes, she's already changing. It happens when the moon is full, just like every bad horror movie cliche, but that's not the only time. Sometimes she finds herself changing in those very rare moments when she's afraid, but _that_ almost never happens. Growing up in this creepy old place, with creepy little David for a cousin, it takes a lot to scare her. But sometimes - like now, after being snapped at and glared at and jeered at by everyone in the house - sometimes the transformation happens just because she's in a _mood._ Like right now.

She lets it happen. She could probably stop it if she wanted to, but why should she?

It starts like it always does, with a sudden stab of pain right through her middle, but along with that comes the scary-exciting first stirrings of the power, the beast waking up, the magic bursting inside of her. Then there's that freaky tingling that starts somewhere in her gut, or in her chest, in a place tucked up under her pounding heart. That tingle, that _zing_ of power flows out from the middle her body, shooting into her limbs like lightning inside her.

She can't sit still while it's happening, she has to pace. If there was a moon, she would feel it flashing across her skin.

Her senses burst to life. Smells and sounds she never notices start to flood her mind, all of then suddenly fascinating. Every scent tells her stories, too many and too fast for her to understand them all, but she can't get enough of them. The musty, dusty scent of the centuries-old mansion, of weathered wood and stone and secrets; the scent of the sheets on her bed, the incense embedded in her clothing from that funky shop in town, the wet and green and growing and dead smells coming in through the open window; she drinks them all in as if she had been starving for them.

Then her body starts to hum, heat runs through her veins as her limbs begin to stretch. All of her muscles are flooded with glorious new strength. Power rips through her, tearing open the fragile teenage-girl shell of her body. Her skin sings with the pain of sudden growth.

Of course she always _tries_ to be quiet, but it's just not possible sometimes. Turning into a wild animal hurts too much and feels too great to stay completely quiet about it.

The pain and shock meld into an intense, undefinable pleasure that forces sounds from her throat, even as words cease to hold much grip in her mind. She can speak, if she needs to, but it seems unnatural when she's changed. Snuffs and growls come out instead, and moans forced from her by pain as her bones stretch and bend into new shapes. She wants to howl with joy, but she tries to muffle the sounds. Instinct both human and animal warns her to keep her transformation a secret. Only harsh panting and a few whimpers and whines escape.

Once the change is complete, Carolyn laughs with a soft, barking sound. She jumps up and balances easily on the windowsill. It would be funny if they really knew, though, wouldn't it? They'll be down there, eating and talking their boring old stupid grownup talk, for hours. Her mother probably won't even notice if she's gone all night.

Who cares what they think of her? _This_ is the real reason she makes those noises that David heard, and it's so much better than anything they could ever imagine.

She leaps from the high window and lands on four feet in damp grass with a soft grunt. Nose raised up to sniff the air, she catches the scent of dead leaves, dried up weeds, and the ocean air carried up over Widow's Hill on the brisk October wind. Everything out here in the night is calling to her.

Carolyn gathers her long, fur-clad limbs and bounds away from Collinwood, into the misty shadows of the night.

~~end~~


End file.
